


New Beginnings

by Eve_7564



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, One Shot, Series Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-23
Updated: 2012-08-23
Packaged: 2017-11-12 18:29:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/494317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eve_7564/pseuds/Eve_7564
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry contemplates his past--and his future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	New Beginnings

Harry sat on the back porch of the Burrow overlooking the winter-dormant garden. A light dusting of snow already covered the ground, and more flakes fell from the sky to add to it. He shivered a bit from the cold. He considered casting a warming spell as he pulled his coat closer to his body, but decided against it. He was happy and peaceful in this moment, even if that moment included a bit too much cold air. Somehow, he felt that casting the spell would break the one Mother Nature was so beautifully weaving around him.

The night was quiet, which for the Burrow was a miracle in and of itself. Of course, the fact that is was 3am might have something to do with that, Harry thought wryly. For all that the Weasleys and their friends were a loud and boisterous clan, they were not nearly as rambunctious as the Muggles the Dursleys chose to associate with. Even after a party like there had been tonight, at this hour most everyone was either back home or asleep in their bed.

Harry remembered a party Vernon Dursley had insisted on hosting when he first got promoted to his corner-office position when Harry was no more than six. Harry remembered overhearing him telling Aunt Petunia (they were sitting in the kitchen, while Harry had been locked in his cupboard for the night) that everyone who was invited was “someone” in the company, and it was essential that there be lots of alcoholic beverages to go around. When Harry had returned from Mrs. Figg’s the next morning—called for by Aunt Petunia much earlier than expected—he spent all day cleaning up the spilled food, vomit, and broken glass that had been the result. It was the last “party” Aunt Petunia had ever tolerated in her home.

Harry grinned. True, there was no lack of spilled food or broken house wares on occasion at the Burrow, but it was rarely the result of drunken revelry. Most times, it was a case of crowded rooms, energetic children, or both. Luckily, the damage was always repaired or the mess cleaned up with a flick of the wand.

A soft noise behind him caused him to turn, and his grin transformed itself into a wide smile. Ginny stood in the doorway in boots, a flannel nightgown, and her heavy winter coat. Her hair was tousled, her eyes were still slightly unfocused from sleep, and she carried a heavy blanket over one arm. “Harry, what in heaven’s name are you doing out here? It’s freezing!” she whispered.

“I know. I couldn’t sleep.”

“Small wonder,” she replied as she nestled beside him, wrapping the blanket around both their shoulders.

“I notice I’m not the only one suffering from insomnia.”

Ginny didn’t answer; she simply nodded as they both sat and watched the snow continue to fall by the light of the winter moon. After a few minutes, she whispered, “Are you ready for tomorrow?”

Harry turned his head to look at her. His answer froze on his lips as the door opened again.

“Bloody hell! What are you two doing up this time of morning? Outside!” Ron asked as he looked down at them. When they made no move to get up, he pulled his coat off the hook beside the door and came out to join them, taking a seat beside Harry.

“So, that was some party, yeah?” he asked after a minute.

“Yeah. I didn’t think Bill and Fleur were ever going to get Victoire to sleep,” Ginny replied.

“They didn’t. Can’t blame the tyke, though. What with Teddy sitting next to her, hair revolving through all the colors of the rainbow. She was still shrieking and laughing when they Apparated home just after midnight. You two were too busy snogging under the mistletoe to see them leave, I’d wager,” Ron snickered.

“Like you have room to talk,” Ginny shot back. “I thought you and Hermione were going to die of suffocation before the two of you came up for air.”

Ron turned red and muttered something about nosy little sisters. Just then, the door opened a third time, and Hermione stepped out to join them.

"What in the world are you lot doing out here?" she asked, burrowing under Ron's arm for warmth.

"Search me. They were out here first," Ron said, nodding his head at his sister and Harry.

"Actually, Harry was out here first. I thought he could use some company," Ginny explained.

"So, Harry, what were you doing out here?" Hermione asked.

Harry didn't answer immediately. How to answer? Under most circumstances, Harry wasn't overly sentimental or reflective. But somehow the night conspired to move him with its beauty and silence, causing him to reflect on matters he normally left locked away. Even now, nearly two years after the defeat of Voldemort, he still sometimes found it hard to believe he had survived. Survived, when he had been so prepared to die. Survived, when so many others had not.

It had been difficult, at first. "Survivors guilt" took on a whole new meaning when one, in fact, had actually died. It hadn't mattered that he had chosen to come back. That had just made it worse. It also hadn't mattered that the choice had quite possibly saved scores of other lives. It only mattered that he--the sacrifice--had lived while so many others had not.

He had gotten past the worst of it, eventually. Oddly enough, it had been Professor Slughorn that had finally made the difference. Harry had been sulking in a corner at some post-war Ministry function or another, when Slughorn had wandered over, drinks in hand.

"Here you go, Harry my boy," he had said, passing him a glass. "I can assure you, it's not poisoned."

That had brought a faint smile to Harry's lips. Ron still couldn't stand even the sight of mead.

"I've been meaning to tell you--that is--this is the first time I've had a chance..." Slughorn trailed off for a moment, caught up in some memory or another. Then, shaking himself out of his reverie, he looked Harry in the eye. "Thank you. After that night at Hagrid's, well, that's the first time in over 40 years I had decent night's sleep."

Harry, already deep in his cups, had shot back, "Don't thank me. I'm no hero. I'm a coward. My mother sacrificed herself so that I could live. And what did I do? When I had the chance to do the same, I turned around and came back, because I wasn't ready to die yet. So many others died, and they didn't have a choice."

"Harry, my boy, don't you see? If you hadn't done precisely that, how many others would have died? If you hadn't drawn Voldemort's attention and forced him into a duel, someone else would have. Someone who would have been forced to use the Killing Curse. No, you did the right thing. Lily would have been proud. Your mother would be thrilled to know her sacrifice has brought you a lifetime, and a chance at a real life here in the wizarding world."

With that statement, Slughorn had risen, squeezed Harry's shoulder, and ambled his way back into the crowd, leaving Harry alone with his thoughts. It took him some time, but he finally understood what Slughorn was saying. His mother--and the others, too, if he thought about it--would want him to embrace life now that he had a chance to freely live it. So that's what he had done. And tomorrow--no, today--he was going to take the next step in living the life he wanted.

"Harry?" He was brought back to the present by the sound of Hermione's voice and the touch of her hand on this arm. All three of them were waiting for his answer.

"I was thinking about new beginnings. Today is one, in every way. A new year, a new millennium, and a new life," he said, looking at Ginny.

"Yeah, well, you know I can't take it when you look at my baby sister like that, mate," Ron said. His tone was not complaining, however. "Hermione, you want to come back inside and help warm me up?"

"Ronald!" Hermione gasped, blushing red. However, she stood and took Ron's hand. "Happy New Year, you two," she called back over her shoulder as she followed him back inside, leaving Harry and Ginny alone together again.

"You never did get around to answering my question, you know," Ginny said as she snuggled closer to Harry.

"Which question was that?"

"I asked if you're ready for tomorrow. Well, today, actually."

"Ginny, when you find the woman you want to spend the rest of your life with, you want the rest of your life to begin as soon as possible," he said, quoting a Muggle movie Hermione had made them all watch once. "I've been ready since sixth year. I was just waiting for the rest of the world to catch up with me."

Ginny shifted in his arms, and suddenly they were kissing, heat blazing between their bodies. Trembling fingers flicked open buttons and Ginny gasped as Harry's cold fingers caressed her breasts. She shivered, not from cold, but from need. She pulled back from Harry, cast a potent warming charm on them both, and lowered herself onto his lap, her nightgown rucking up around her waist. She kept the blanket wrapped around herself and held the ends in each hand so that it covered them both as she wrapped her arms around Harry and once again captured his lips with hers.

His erection was already straining through the gap in his pajama bottoms, and he was surprised at how hot and wet she already was through the fabric of her knickers. "God, Ginny, are you crazy?" he whispered when she came up for air.

"No, just very horny. Fuck me Harry, please," she breathed in his ear as she reached down and stroked him.

He was powerless to deny the bewitching redhead grinding herself against him, nightgown gaping open to reveal her small breasts and hard nipples. He reached down and pulled her knickers to one side, allowing her to lower herself onto his fully erect cock. He lowered his head to her breast, teasing the nipple with his tongue and rolling it gently between his teeth. Ginny moaned his name as she rode him, and he knew he wasn't going to last much longer. He lay back, taking half a second to bless Ginny's proficiency in charms, and grabbed her by the hips. Ginny, knowing he was close, reached between them and began stroking her clit as she rode him. This was more than Harry could stand, and he began to thrust up into her hard and fast, using his hands to hold her steady. Her body began to tremble and Harry felt her orgasm hit as she spasmed hard around him. He continued to thrust as she squeezed him again and again. Then he came, spilling himself into her as the world went dark and stars flashed across his vision.

A few minutes later, Ginny lifted herself off Harry's chest with a sigh. "I suppose we should go in before someone else decides to check on us." Harry nodded, not trusting his ability to speak just yet. They both got up and straightened up their nightclothes, preparing to go back inside. "Fleur's coming by at seven o'clock to come get Hermione and me and take us to get the beauty stuff done. I won't see you again til this afternoon."

Harry lifted her face and kissed her again, pouring his whole heart into it. Then he stepped back and opened the door to allow her to enter first. "In that case," he whispered as she began to climb the stairs to her room, "I'll see you at the alter."

Ginny's answering smile was bright enough to light the room. "Count on it."


End file.
